In My Bones
by didyouhaveagoodtime
Summary: "It all started the night Robert Crawley died. The police had tried to keep it under wraps, but word had gotten out, the hard truth of it too appealing for those feeding on scandal and tragedy." An AU tale of love and sacrifices and brave choices.


Hello my dear readers and happy belated Christmas wishes to you! I hope you are having a lovely holiday season and that you are enjoying what's left of 2014 :)

This story is my gift for **lorcaowen** on Tumblr, written for the **Mary&amp;Matthew Secret Santa Project 2014 **(you'll find a masterpost with all the gifts on my Tumblr shortly, so watch out for that!) and it's a period AU fic, set in the late Fifties in London. It is based on a Spanish TV show called _Galerìas Velvet_, as both lorcaowen and I are big fans of it. The original show is set in Madrid during the Fifties and focuses on the life of these working and living in a big fashion house in the city. Much as it happens in Downton, the workers (clerks and hall boys and seamstresses and all the personnel) live all in the same building where the downstairs atelier and the upstairs shop and offices are, thus partly mirroring that upstairs/downstairs dynamic that's typical of Downton. There are a lot of other similarities too, so I found it interesting to try and create a Downton universe based on that show. Since I doubt many have seen the original show, I hope you'll enjoy this story as something new and just know that every necessary bit of information will be revealed as the story goes on, moving between past and present. Other characters from Downton appear, but Mary and Matthew are the main characters.

I have to warn you that there is some darkness to this story. There are mentions of suicide and the death of a major character (Robert) informs all the 'present' events.

Mmm, have I confused you enough? :P

Anyway, I have a couple more chapters planned, so this will be a quite short tale, but I hope you'll be interested in following it through with me :)

As always, many thanks to **darkblueyank**, my lovely beta reader. If my fics are not stuffed with silly mistakes, you can thank her_. _

_Disclaimer:_ _I do not own Downton Abbey or Galerìas Velvet, but I love to have fun with their universes and characters._

Enjoy!

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* * *

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**ONE  
**

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It all started the night Robert Crawley died.

The police had tried to keep it under wraps, but word had gotten out, the hard truth of it too appealing for those feeding on scandal and tragedy.

.

* * *

.

_"__You can't be serious."_

_"__I am serious! It was the reason why he was sent away in the first place."_

_She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. _

_"__I thought that was to keep us apart." _

_"__Mary..."_

_"__It's alright, it's been a long time ago and it's of no matter now. What I don't understand is why you are offering him a job as a manager here. Why now? What does he know about what we do that can be useful for us? What does he know about fashion?" _

_"__He's worked in other companies before. Different sectors, I'll grant you that, but he's good as his job. As it happens, he helped a lot of them straighten their books. Plus, he is family. I'd rather much work with someone I can trust than with a perfect stranger."_

_"__You really expect him to come in here and perform some miracle? It's our collection we have to work on, Papa, what we offer to our clients, not the management or our employees' salaries! We're stuck in the past, while the rest of the world has moved on."_

_"__The 'past', as you call it, always sold well, but the competition is too rootless these days, there's no honour in the way they make business. That's what's ruining us. Now go on, I have some phone calls to make."_

_And with that Mary knew she was dismissed. _

_She thought about arguing some more, but changed her mind for she knew all too well how this conversation ended. _

_She went to the door and left her father's office._

_. _

* * *

.

Rumours had spread in the hallways of Grantham House as soon as dawn had cast its uncertain glow upon the many windows of the imposing, grand building in Oxford Street.

When the employees had come out of their downstairs rooms to start their day, a handful of reporters had already gathered outside, hoping to catch someone and get their scoop.

The personnel had been instructed not to talk the press if they didn't want to risk losing their jobs, but everyone was worried and shocked by the sudden death of their employer and by it could mean for the business.

"Is it true what they say?" one of the older seamstresses asked late in the morning, "that Mr. Crawley-"

"Go back to your work, Sarah," Mrs. Hughes, head of the atelier, interrupted her. "And you too," she added, looking at the all the women sitting at their sewing machines. "This is a dark time for all of us, but dresses are not going to make themselves and our clients are still waiting for them."

No one said another word, but an errand boy standing by the door with an unlit cigarette frowned and looked pensive for a moment.

Then, unnoticed, he slipped away.

.

* * *

.

_"__So... I heard Matthew is coming back?" Anna asked casually as she and Mary were sipping hot chocolate in her bedroom one evening. _

_Anna shared the room with Gwen, but the girl was out at the moment, running some errand, and so they had the room all for themselves. _

_The young seamstress Mary considered her closest friend looked at her expectantly._

_Mary sighed. _

_"__The golden boy comes home and my father welcomes him with arms wide open."_

_Anna smiled kindly, easily reading between the lines of her friend's resentment. _

_"__That's a bit unfair, it wasn't his fault that he was sent away."_

_"__But he stayed away, Anna, didn't even bother answering my letters." Mary put down her empty cup. "Anyway, that's history now. What makes me mad is that my father won't listen to me but he's ready to listen to Matthew on matters that concern this fashion house. As if he could know more about it than I do."_

_"__I'm sure you'll find a way to work together. You always were a good team, since you were children, and he always was a good boy."_

_"__We don't know what he's like now, maybe he's pompous and very full of himself. Anyway, thanks for the chocolate and the chatter. I'll see you tomorrow to work on some new models."_

_She got up and Anna got to her feet as well._

_"__I thought your father didn't approve of these new designs of yours?"_

_"__He doesn't," Mary answered with a shrug. "But what he doesn't know won't hurt him, now will it?"_

_._

* * *

_._

How they had been able to avoid reporters all day, Mary wasn't sure.

Matthew had been the one instructing drivers and chauffeurs to take secondary roads and he'd somehow managed to keep all journalists at arm's length.

But when they'd come home after the funeral, here they were, dozens of them, shouting their questions, their cameras flashing them with their lights.

Mary felt sick.

A hand on her back steadied her.

"Just stay close to me and ignore what they say," he told her, and then to the man sitting in the driver seat. "Drive as close as you can, Tom, then we'll escort them inside."

The other man nodded and did as he was told and after a moment they quickly jumped out of the car, guiding Mary and her younger sister toward the door of the elegant city house.

They moved swiftly, ignoring the questions and the flashes, but one of the reporters tugged at Matthew, causing him to lose his balance and leave Mary exposed to their cameras.

Immediately, the reporters started shooting pictures of her.

"Word in the streets says your father took his own life, Miss Crawley!" a man shouted. "Can you confirm that it was a suicide?"

Mary shivered at the word, but before she could even turn around, Matthew had already grabbed the man's camera, throwing it away.

"Hey!"

"We just buried a good man," he hissed taking the reporter by the lapels of his jacket. "Show some respect and leave the family to mourn him in peace!"

He showed the man into the others, and immediately took hold of Mary again.

Together they finally joined the Sybil and Tom inside.

.

* * *

.

_He had not changed much, it turned out. _

_He had grown into a man, of course, but, after all, he was only a boy when she'd last seen him. _

_In many ways, though, he was the same. _

_His smile was still easy, his eyes sincere if a bit guarded when they lingered upon her, his voice smooth and charming. _

_Mary shook herself at the thought. _

_That wasn't a word she wanted to associate with Matthew Crawley. _

_"__And what happens once you go over the books? How will the restructuring work?" she asked from where she was standing near the window of her father's office._

_Matthew looked up at her slightly surprised, as this was the first time she spoke since the meeting had started._

_"__We'll decide upon a plan of action," he said confidently. "We will have to cut down any kind of waste and improve where there's room for doing so. We will also invest in these sectors that sell best." _

_"__A quite simple plan. I expected something a bit more... _exotic_ considering your American education and experience," Mary said, finally turning around to look at him, head tilting to one side. _

_Robert gave her a warning look, but Matthew only smiled, without losing a beat._

_"__The simplest plans are the more effective," he said. "I'll have a more detailed one once I'll have inspected the books closely, and I'm sure you'll have some good ideas on your own?"_

_"__Mary has been helping around more than actively managing Grantham House," Robert cut in before Mary could reply. _

_She pressed her lips together and Matthew frowned at Robert's words, looking between father and daughter._

_"__I think that's all for now," the older man said, resting down the papers he was inspecting. "Would you like to come over for dinner, Matthew? Sybil is dying to see you again." _

_._

* * *

_._

"You don't have to stay," Mary said quietly as Matthew held out a glass of water to her.

Sybil had gone up to lie down for a bit, but Mary's head was splitting and she knew sleep would not come.

So she sat in silence, staring without seeing at the blooming flowers of her house's garden.

Wasn't it ironic that life went on so easily, as if what had happened to her family in the past two days was of no importance whatsoever for the rest of the universe?

But then, in the grand scheme of things, perhaps it wasn't, she supposed.

"Well, I'm not going anywhere," Matthew said as he sat down next to her.

He didn't speak again, and she didn't either.

They just sat, each of them lost in their own thoughts, till Mrs. Patmore came and asked if she should prepare something for dinner.

.

* * *

.

_"__What was that about?" Matthew asked catching her just as she was about to step into the elevator. _

_"__What was what about?" she replied, and before she could stop him, Matthew got inside the elevator with her. _

_She pushed the button and the doors whizzed closed._

_Matthew rolled his eyes at the question._

_"__I'm not the enemy, Mary. I'm here to help."_

_"__So I've been told." When he just kept on looking at her, Mary sighed and gave in. "I have 'ideas', Matthew, as you call them, but my father is not interested. He thinks women shouldn't have their say in how the family business is run."_

_"__But what about your grandmother?" he asked, looking sincerely surprised. "I seem to remember she wouldn't miss a day at work."_

_A fond smile formed on Mary's face at the memory of the family's matriarch. _

_Violet Crawley had had her say in the family business till her very last day, and when her father, from time to time, had dared to imply that everything was under control and she didn't need to come in every day, Violet had promptly replied that only death would keep her away._

_In the end, that was just what had happened._

_"__Granny managed Gratham House for years before my father was old enough to take matters into his own hands," Mary said with a shrug. "No one believed she could do it at the time, not with two small children to care for, but she was the one who inherited a common tailor's shop and made it into one of the most successful high fashion houses of all London, and she survived two wars while doing so. No one could tell her off, not even Papa."_

_"__Then why you let him tell _you_ off?"_

_"__I have no official role, so he doesn't have to listen to me if he doesn't agree, which is often nowadays," she added looking pointedly at him and the meaning behind her words was not lost to him._

_The elevator's doors opened as they reached the ground floor, the one where the actual business happened. _

_There were a few clients here and there admiring the more recent models hanging from the mannequins, and shop girls and boys dressed in elegant suits were showing off the latest of the jewellery fashion. _

_"__I'll see you tomorrow, Matthew," Mary said, not bothering looking at him as she exited the elevator._

_"__Miss Crawley," Mr. Carson, the head of personnel, bowed respectfully to her. _

_Mary smiled fondly at the old man while passing by._

_She put on her sunglasses and she walked out into the sun._

_._

* * *

_._

"I'm going home," Matthew announced, finally standing up.

"But at this hour? You can stay here, Mary and I won't mind," Sybil said with a pleading look.

Sybil had been crying on and off all day, and she'd leaned on Matthew a few times during the funeral, when she'd somehow managed to keep the tears in check.

"He's been with us almost all day today and yesterday, darling," Mary intervened. "He needs some rest, and so do you."

"But-"

"Come, I'll put you in bed like we did when you were a little girl."

Sybil nodded and Mary smiled at her, squeezing her hand as they both moved to the stairs.

"Thank you," Mary said softly to Matthew as they went.

She didn't wait for his answer, her attention on her sister as she guided her up to her bedroom.

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* * *

.

_"__We don't have that exact shade, but I think this one would do," Anna offered as she held out the small piece of fabric for Mary to inspect._

_"__Yes, I think you're right," Mary nodded, looking at the fabric and then down at the sketches laid on the white table of a secluded room of the atelier._

_"__Well then, this was the last one," Anna said as she put the fabric into her folder and scribbled something down. "Hopefully I'll be able to work more on it tonight, so the dress will be finished soon. Maybe you will be able to wear it at your dinner party next week."_

_"__Mmm, I feel like I'm using you, Anna. I'm not sure what I did to deserve you."_

_"__Well, for starters you pay me a little extra," the other woman joked, and they both laughed. "But you should think about what I said, there are many shops that will pay you lots of money for these dresses."_

_"__I could never do that to my father. He pretends not to know and only indulges me because he thinks this is some kind of hobby, and for now I suppose it is," she sighed, putting her drawings together. She shrugged. "Perhaps that's all it is ever going to be."_

_Anna smiled kindly, if a bit sadly at her friend, rubbing Mary's arm encouragingly. _

_"__Well, I really should go now or Mrs. Hughes will have my head," she said._

_"__I highly doubt that. She loves you like a daughter."_

_"__Maybe, but she will have my head nonetheless."_

_Anna waited for Mary to gather all her things and they exited together, headed into the main room of the atelier where the other seamstresses would soon be at work. _

_Just outside the door, however, they ran into Matthew._

_"__What are you doing here?" Mary asked._

_"__Good morning to you," Matthew replied with a smile for both her and Anna._

_"__Good morning, Mr. Crawley."_

_"__Call me Matthew, please, Anna. You've known me since we were children. How are you?"_

_"__I'm very well, thank you. If I may say so, it's good to have you back, Matthew."_

_"__It's good to be back."_

_Then Anna turned to Mary. _

_"__I should really-"_

_"__Go Anna, and thank you for your help," Mary told her friend and the other woman nodded to both her and Matthew and went away. _

_"__She's not changed much in all these years," Matthew said when they were left alone. _

_"__We all have changed," Mary replied trying not to roll her eyes. "But Anna has grown into a fine woman. She's one of the best seamstresses of Grantham House, probably of the whole city."_

_"__So I heard. Mrs. Hughes speaks very highly of her," he added at Mary's surprised look._

_"__You're making enquires about the workers?" she asked, feeling somehow annoyed that he was._

_"__It's part of what I do. The books only tell you so much. It's the people you need to listen to."_

_"__You've turned American," Mary said with a hint of distaste in her voice, but if she were to be honest, she would admit that she didn't dislike his line of thinking all that much. "So you've come downstairs to interview someone?"_

_"__Actually, I was looking for you. Carson said you were likely to be here."_

_"__You make it sound like it's a secret, but I like spending time here, it's where I grew up."_

_"__I know," Matthew said with a simple smile, and Mary was suddenly reminded of the young boy her father had brought home one day a long time ago, announcing that Matthew would stay with them for the time being, be part of the family. _

_She was just a child, really, when they first met, but her challenging spirit and his quick mind had soon ensured they formed a formidable bond, and the two Crawleys had been the nightmare of more than one nanny._

_As years went by, Mary and Matthew were sent to different schools, only able to see each other on weekends and sometimes not even that, if one of them had some important school event to keep them from coming home at the end of the school week. _

_In time, they'd started to look less like children and more like adults, and one day her mother had sat down in her room and talked to her about what it meant to "become a woman". _

_From that moment on Mary was not allowed to play with Matthew of even her sisters, and she would accompany her mother on social calls and mundane events. _

_Her dresses had started looking a lot smarter, her hair carefully coiffed, and boys that she didn't know would smile at her for no reason of all, and then one day she had caught a strange look on Matthew's face. _

_"__What did you want me for?" Mary asked quickly, before a different set of memories could distract her further._

_"__I wanted your help."_

_"__What for?" _

_"__You know this place better than anyone else, probably better than your own father. If there is someone whose opinion I'm going to ask, it's yours."_

_Mary was taken aback by his words. _

_She frowned. _

_"__You know Papa doesn't want me interfering."_

_"__Well, he'll have to change his mind if he wants me to work here," Matthew said simply. _

_And Mary only stared at him, mouth slightly open, suddenly aware of how much she had missed him over the years._

_She looked down, swallowing to keep in check the wave of emotions assaulting her. _

_"__Are you sure? My father can be very stubborn," she said after a while, looking up at him again._

_Matthew grinned. _

_"__So can I," he said. "Then... will you?"_

_._

* * *

_._

"I thought you were going away?" Mary asked when she came down after having put Sybil to bed.

Matthew was still there, lingering about the French windows facing the garden.

He had poured himself a drink, she noticed.

"I changed my mind," he said, his back on her.

She nodded and served herself some wine.

Matthew turned.

"You should go to sleep too."

"And you should keep your advices for yourself."

He sighed and put his glass on the nearest table.

He came closer, rested a hand on her upper arm.

"If you're going to ask me how I am, I'm going to throw my wine at your face," she threatened.

"I won't," he said seriously. "But you are not alone, Mary. You don't have to hold up alone. You have me."

In spite of herself, she felt tears prickle at her eyes.

She closed them and she let Matthew take her glass away.

A second later, she was in his arms.

"Oh God," she breathed, the full load of the last two days weighing down on her suddenly, and she squeezed her eyes, hiding her face in his chest as a sob broke from her throat.

Matthew held her tighter as she cried, his cheek resting against her hair.

.

* * *

.

_As expected, Robert had not been very happy with Mary taking on an active role in the restructuring of Grantham House, but Matthew's enthusiasm for her knowledge of the ways the fashion house worked had soon made the other man's doubts crumble, at least for some time._

_"__She could run the business smoothly without you and me," Matthew joked one day in Robert's office, "I'm not sure why you called me here at all."_

_Mary had been about to come in, but had stopped at the door when she heard them talk. She smiled at his words and entered the room._

_"__Did you come to collect me?" Matthew asked sitting up._

_"__As a matter of fact, I did." _

_"__Go on then," her father said with half a smile, motioning for them to go. _

_He sat down heavily on his chair and moved some of the papers on his desk._

_Something about him was out of place, Mary thought, but she couldn't put her finger on it._

_Matthew joined her and they left._

_"__Ready then?" Matthew asked as they walked down the hallway._

_"__Yes. We will go over our supply list this morning and check our stocks. I've asked Mrs. Hughes to join us, and William, of course, as the one in charge of the stockroom, will be there as well."_

_"__William. Do I know him?"_

_"__I don't think you've met him. He's been working here for a little over a year now. Anna says he misses home keenly."_

_Matthew nodded and looked at her in silence, watching her as he wanted to say something, but apparently he changed his mind and stayed silent. _

_But a question had been nagging at Mary in the past few weeks, since they had started working side by side and she had discovered with no small amount of surprise how easy it was to take up exactly where they had left things off between them. _

_Well, maybe not _exactly_ where they had left, since the last months they had spent together they had been a lot closer than they were at the moment, and the notion of "personal space" wasn't really one they had been considering much at the time, but the easiness was there, the way he understood her words and her silences, the way he could amuse her with a quirk of his eyebrows, and in more than one occasion she had chastised herself inwardly for being so friendly with him._

_After the way he had hurt her all these years ago, he didn't deserve that. _

"I'll write every day,"_ he'd promised holding her face between his large, warm palms on their last day before his leaving. _"You won't be able to forget about me, Mary Crawley."

_She had laughed against his lips and, a girl in love as she was, she had believed him, had waited for him, had cried because of him._

_Mary looked at him once they got into the elevator and the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them._

_"__Did you ever miss us?" _

_She didn't say _me_, but there were no defences around her eyes and heart now, for the first time in a long while, and his eyes, when they met hers, told her he could see that._

_"__Of course," he said, voice lowering, trembling a little, in the small space of the elevator. _

_"__Then why-" but she couldn't go on. _

_She closed her eyes. _

_It still hurt. _

Damn him.

_"__Then why, what?" Matthew asked, and when Mary opened her eyes he was closer. _

_"__Forget about it."_

_"__Mary-"_

_The elevator's door opened, the moment passed. _

_"__Ah, Miss Crawley, Mr. Crawley. I was waiting for you," Mrs. Hughes welcomed them and if she noticed Mary's shiny eyes or Matthew's deep frown, she didn't let on. _

_._

* * *

_._

She moved away from his embrace feeling hot and self-conscious because of her display of weakness in front of him, but as soon as she looked up, every embarrassment fell away, as there was only compassion in Matthew's eyes, and deep understanding, and with a surge of tenderness she remembered that she and her sisters weren't the only ones to have lost a father two days ago.

She disentangled herself from him, but didn't move too far.

"Thank you," she whispered. "I don't think I could have done it without you."

He reached up to caress her face, his fingertips, gently brushing her cheek.

"You don't have to thank me," he said, and leaned down to press a kiss on her forehead.

She closed her eyes at the contact, her hands on his chest.

"Would you stay, if I asked you to?" she asked when he moved away, and then smiled, just a little, when he didn't look surprised at all. "I just-I don't want to go to bed, just-"

"I'll make us some tea," he said, stopping her and smiling, and she nodded.

.

* * *

.

_"__Mary, can I talk to you?"_

_"__What are you doing here?" _

_It was late in the afternoon and they were on the top terrace of Grantham House, a place Mary had favoured since when she was a girl and her father brought her with him at work sometimes, a place where she and Matthew had often escaped in the last tense weeks before their separation. _

_"__I think we've played this game long enough," he said and even without seeing him, Mary knew he was rolling his eyes. "What were you about to say this morning, before we went to inspect the stockroom?"_

_"__I forgot."_

_"__Really, Mary, after all this time?" He came closer, but didn't dare to touch her. "I thought we were two adults, and adults face their issues, they don't run away from them."_

_Mary frowned at his words. Running away? _

_He was the one who'd come back after seven years without a word of explanation!_

_"__That's rich, coming from you!"_

_"__What's that supposed to mean, pray?"_

_"__You know exactly what it means!"_

_"__I don't, so please enlighten me!"_

_They were face to face now, both breathing heavily with anger and passion._

_Passion. _

_She bowed her head, closing her eyes for only a moment. _

_"__You know, Matthew, I'm tired," she said without looking at him. _

_"__Tired of what?" he asked, but he sounded weary now, the fight drained away from him as well._

_"__You, me, us..." Mary said and this time she lifted her head and met his eyes. "We've been circling around one another since the moment you came back and it feels just as it was when we were children, playing and challenging each other, but always on the edge, like any moment something could snap and everything go to pieces. Do you know what I'm talking about?"_

_Matthew let out a light chuckle, but there wasn't any trace of humour in it and his eyes were dark and tired. _

_"__You've always managed to make me feel on edge, Mary. I imagine that was what drew me to you. What made me fall in love with you."_

_"__Then why, Matthew, why didn't you write to me?" Mary asked, barely keeping herself from hitting him in the chest. "You promised me that you would, but you never did!"_

_"__I wrote to you every day!" he exclaimed, surprised by the accusation, and Mary had no doubt he was telling the truth. "I wrote and I received no answer, and when I tried to call at your home I was told you weren't available, that you had your ballet lessons or your drawing lessons, or whatever it was you were doing at the time!"_

_He stopped and frowned and just like that his anger seemed to vanish, just as hers did. _

_"__Then one day, I received a letter," he continued, quietly this time. "I thought you were finally getting back at me, but it wasn't you, it was Cora. She said that in the months since my absence you had realised your feelings for me didn't run as deeply as you'd thought and that you felt too embarrassed to tell me yourself. Christ, she even apologised for you, telling me teenage girls can be like that and that she hoped I would find someone more suited for me while I was away."_

_He blinked and looked away and Mary could feel a tear roll down her cheek as every piece of the puzzle of their past fell into place._

_"__I can't believe they did this to us..." she murmured. _

_"__They wanted something better for you," Matthew said. "An orphan without a penny to his name wasn't exactly the best suitor for their daughter."_

_"__Don't try and justify them, it was bad enough that they separated us, but then lie to us like that? God, I can't believe all the times I cried in my mother's arms, missing you so much I could barely breath! Didn't she have a heart at all? Didn't my father? Oh no, he's getting a piece of my mind right now..." _

_She moved toward the door, but Matthew's hand on her arm stopped her. _

_"__Don't, it's not worth it."_

_"__How can you say that?"_

_"__I mean, it's not worth fighting with your father for something he did a long time ago. And even so, it's late, he's probably already gone home now."_

_In spite of her anger, Mary had to agree._

_It was another of those strange things. Her father never left Grantham House early but he had been doing just that lately._

_She relented and allowed Matthew to bring her closer. _

_She looked up and he was smiling. _

_"__So you missed me?" he asked and his grin only widened as she rolled her eyes._

_"__Can't fathom why," she replied, pressing her lips together to keep from smiling. But it was too late, he could see the smile in her eyes. _

_"__I missed you terribly, and even though it got better with time, I think I never stopped missing you."_

_His arms came easily around her waist and she sighed._

_"__We can't just pick up where we left off."_

_"__Why not?" _

_"__Because! Because we're adults now, because we have responsibilities, because we work together, because it's been years." _

_He looked seriously at her for a moment._

_"__Do you feel it?" he asked._

_"__Feel what?"_

_"__The pull, the tug, whatever you want to call it. We've been separated and forced to live apart for many years. You've lived your life just as I have lived mine, but now we are here together." He smiled, one hand reaching up to her face, his thumb softly caressing her jaw. "I think we've been given a second chance, Mary, and I'd like to take it, if you don't mind."_

_This time, Mary didn't fight the smile that tugged at her lips. _

_"__I don't mind," she said with a shrug, but her voice was kind._

_"__Good," he whispered before leaning slightly down._

_She knew what was to come, and she kept her eyes open till the very last moment, but when his lips touched hers, they fell shut._

_She sighed against his mouth as her arms wound easily around his neck._

_It felt like coming home, and she gave herself up to that feeling. _

_._

* * *

_._

They woke up in a tangle of limbs on the large sofa in the spacious living room.

Matthew kissed her temple as she moved, then her cheek, and finally her lips.

She smiled into his kiss and opened her eyes, lost for a moment in his beautiful eyes.

She sighed, as reality set in.

"I keep hoping that I'll wake up and realise this is all a nightmare."

He tightened his hold on her.

"It will get better in time," he said and Mary knew that it wasn't hope but a certainty learned from experience.

"I know," she said quietly, sharing that surety, but a part of her knew that while it had been difficult to overcome the terrible loss of her mother a few years ago, there had been a comfort about their relationship that had made it easier to accept that she was not with her anymore, however much it still hurt to this day.

Her relationship with her father on the other hand...

It had always been a complicated one, wrought from her knowledge that he had wished she were a son, a male heir to shape in his own image, and that no matter how much he loved her, he would always consider her his little princess, someone to be cuddled and protected, spoiled and shielded, but not an equal, not someone on whom he could rely.

Maybe this was the reason why he had sent Matthew away after having brought him into their house, had him attend the best London schools he could afford, started to shape him into that male heir that fate had denied him.

When the two of them had fallen in love, maybe her father had sensed that it could jeopardise her life, the one he and her mother had imagined for her, as wife to some important man with a good position within the London society, someone who could bring prestige to the family through his connection.

An orphan with no station in life, however beloved within the family, however well educated, would never do, and even though her father had hoped Matthew to take over Grantham House one day, he would do so only as a caretaker, while the propriety remained within the family.

In the end, it had been easier to send him away with the excuse of continuing his studies abroad.

He'd hurt both her and Matthew by doing so and then lied to them and she was still mad at him because of that.

But any anger about that paled in comparison to the blind rage she felt when she thought about his death.

_Why?_

It was the only question that mattered, the one that had been whirling in her mind since that terrible night, put off and stalled by shock and pain, but still there.

How could he be so selfish?

How could he think to do something like that and deserve her forgiveness?

Something like an answer came within a few hours, when Matthew called her from Grantham House later that day.

"They have found Robert's will in his safe," he said over the phone and something about his tone told her that wasn't all.

"Is there something else?" she asked, her stomach dropping while a cold fear squeezed her heart.

"They found other books and a lot of hidden documents, ones that I've never seen before... Mary, I don't know how to say this, Robert was drowning in debts, an amount so large it could sink Grantham House."

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**_To Be Continued..._**

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_And that is all for now. Do let me know what you think of it so far as I'm dying to know your opinion on such a leap off my usual common writing turf. _

_Till next time :)_


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